


Zombiecakes

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jane's Dad is gone for the weekend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombiecakes

Not that you don’t love your Dad, but his weekend business trips are one of your favorite things. He can’t just take you along because the company wouldn’t pay your travel expenses, and he tries to save money. (He chooses to ignore the fact that you’re practically rolling in it.)

The thing is he doesn’t want to just leave you alone either. Around the time you turned thirteen, he got tired of hiring babysitters who were not much older than you and not nearly as capable as you. He still didn’t want to leave you alone though. As a compromise, he let you spend the weekend with Roxy.

Sometimes you spend the time at Roxy’s house, and sometimes at yours. This time it’s yours. Not that it really matters either way, since having Ms. Lalonde as your company is almost like being alone, but you think you like it a little better when it’s at your house.

You don’t know if Roxy has a preference or not. You think maybe she thinks your place is a little more boring, because this afternoon she brought an xbox and two controllers. (You know she didn’t mean anything by it, she just wants to play some video games with you. Roxy loves video games. You’re happy to indulge her, and some of her games are a lot of fun.)

“Come on, let’s hook this thing up and kill some zombies,” she’d said as soon as she came in the door. Not that she gave you a chance to, but you couldn’t have said no to that bright tone and bright expression to match. You don’t think you would have anyway. Whenever Roxy teaches you how to play a new game, it’s always a lot of fun.

Now, three hours later, the two of you are still playing Left 4 Dead. After your tutorial on easy mode, Roxy switched from easy to normal mode, claiming she usually played on expert and easy was boring her. You really don’t think you’re ready for this level yet though. You’re sitting silently and somewhat stiffly; the better to concentrate on the zombies you just got the hang of killing.

Meanwhile, your best friend is the exact opposite. Her legs are crossed on the couch beside you and she’s leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees. As you sit with your tongue between your teeth, she’s as chatty as ever. She finds explosives and medicine for you to pick up, tells you where to go when you lose your bearing, asks you to cover one side while she gets the other (and the AIs do whatever they do). Mostly though, she just swears at the game.

“Oh shit, I hate tanks.”

“You walked right into my line of fire as I was shooting, Francis. What the fuck did you expect?”

“DON’T STARTLE THE GODDAMN – he just startled the goddamn witch, goddammit.”

At least it’s entertaining. (Okay, if you’re totally honest, it’s adorable that she’s getting so absorbed in the game. Profuse swearing should not be adorable.)

But you’re noticing the swearing is getting more frequent now. The enemies are getting more frequent too though. You decide to just let Roxy say whatever she wants and write it off to her passion for the game.

You’ve got to escape the horde and get to the safe house, which is a much more pressing issue right now – your health is in the red.

You try to ignore the voice beside you and run, and shoot, and hopefully not hit anything you shouldn’t be shooting. It’s hard though, when the horde is closing in and you don’t have time to think about much.

A few seconds later, you realize Roxy is in the safe house, and you run for her outline. “Yo Janey, I’m throwing a pipe bomb,” she warns. You almost tell her no, don’t, save it for the onslaught at the end of the campaign – but it’s too late. She throws it, and the zombies abandon you to pile on top of it. That leaves you free to run to Roxy and slam the door behind you.

Both of you take the opportunity to relax, and you ponder how stupid zombies can get. You ignore the stats coming up on the screen and turn to your best friend. She was already looking at you. For just a second, her expression is pensive. A second later, Roxy’s eyes have brightened and her lips have curled.

“You okay, there?” she asks, and her smile turns into a smirk. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and just nod, and you wonder what she was just thinking.

Soon enough the game loads and stocking up on supplies distracts you from your thoughts. Roxy leads the way out into the fray, as usual. It’s not long before she starts muttering strings of swears again.

You’re closer to the end than you thought – it’s only a minute before she reaches the radio and the usual pile of supplies. You claim the mounted machine gun and she calls for help, and all hell breaks loose.

The horde of zombies that comes is out of your range of fire, so you have to abandon the machine gun anyway to fight. It works, but it deals you a lot of damage. You try to heal yourself before the second wave, but the second wave is just one huge Hulkish monster. You’re not prepared, and so he knocks you down on the ground immediately.

You can only shoot at him from the ground with pistols once you’re incapacitated, so once he moves out of your sight you’re basically useless. You decide to watch Roxy’s screen until she can save you. It turns out that three people against one of those monsters aren’t quite as effective as four. He ends up killing Roxy and your computer controlled teammates as well.

At that point, the girl on the couch actually screams over the music. She throws her head back dramatically and lays her controller down to her side. “I’m getting so sick of this game,” she groans, ignoring the game when it starts again.

To tell the truth, you’re getting a little tired of it too. Besides, your friend looks legitimately upset. You’d like to find a way to calm her down.

“Hey, you know what always cheers me up when zombies kill all my friends?” You set aside your controller as well, turning to her enthusiastically.

Your joke at least earns you a smile. “What’s that?”

“Cupcakes.”

That certainly seems to do the trick. Roxy’s annoyance dissipates into her usual excitement. “Ooh, that’s an excellent idea!”

For once, she seems to be glad that she’s in a house perpetually equipped with all the ingredients you need to bake anything you want. She kisses your cheek in her excitement and hops up, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

(You can’t ever decide if you love it or hate it when she does that. You love it because it’s adorable and, well, who doesn’t like affection? But you hate that it makes you blush every time.)

You beam, and take her enthusiasm as permission to grab her hand and lead her into the kitchen, abandoning the video game. When you start bustling around looking for the dry ingredients, the heat in your cheeks starts to cool. You have Roxy grab the milk, eggs, and butter from the fridge, and preheat the oven.

You grab a bowl, measuring cups, a cupcake pan, paper liners, and run through the checklist you’ve memorized to make sure you’ve got everything.

Picking up the quarter cup measure, you dump seven scoops of cake flour and five cups of all-purpose flour in the bowl. You measure out sugar, Roxy measures baking powder and salt. When you spare her a glance, you notice that she’s being very careful to measure correctly and not mix anything up.

How is that so adorable? It should be illegal how adorable Roxy is.

You mix it up, pause to add the butter that Roxy measured, mix it again. Once you add the eggs and milk and vanilla, it pretty much becomes you stirring and your friend watching.

“So, how do you want to decorate these?” you ask without looking up from the batter.

You hear her exaggerated hum, indicating that she’s thinking. “Can we do each of them different?” Her voice sounds farther away at the end of her question, and you look up to see her opening the pantry.

The idea of it makes you grin. “Oh yes, that’s an excellent idea!”

Immediately, she starts pulling icing and sprinkles and candles and all kinds of decorations that catch her eye. You even see the box of leftover sparklers from your New Year’s cake in her arms.

While she does that, you finish up the batter and pour it in the pan. Your cupcakes are in the oven as soon as all the decorations are on the counter.

Roxy turns around and smiles at you, and you smile right back. You notice her gaze fall slightly lower before she steps toward you.

“Hey, batter on your cheek,” she says, before licking right at the corner of your mouth. You blush even darker than you did before. You don’t even know how you got batter on your face, but it’s kind of worth it to see her playful smirk so close.

You realize you should do something, or say something, and preferably before the proximity gets awkward. The best you can come up with is “How does it taste?”

She doesn’t take as long to respond as you do. “It’s good. Here.” She picks up the bowl with trace amounts of batter still on the sides, and holds it out to you. It could be totally innocent, or it could be a dare.

Knowing Roxy, it’s probably a dare. You just don’t know how to go about this subtly. Slowly, carefully, you dip a finger into the bowl and scrape a bit of batter off the side. You hesitate for one second, two, three, and that part of your head that speaks more like your bestie than you screams ‘fuck it, just do it’.

In a move that ends up being much clumsier than you imagined it, you wipe the batter on her lips and kiss it off again.

All you really accomplish is getting batter over both of your faces. You end up blushing furiously and looking down as Roxy laughs. You lick your lip and bite it as you examine your feet. On the plus side, the batter tastes good. Your toenails look dumb though; maybe painting those up would be a way to make Rox forget the awkwardness.

“Smooth, Janey.” Her tone convinces you that it’s safe to look up, and her bright eyes convince you that it’s safe to laugh a little.

You start to apologize, but Roxy cuts you off with a kiss – direct, simple, no using the cupcake batter as an excuse this time. She pulls back quickly though, too quickly for you to respond. You can tell she’s starting to second guess herself now, and what do you know? It’s adorable.

“Ugh, you’re too cute for your own good,” you complain, and you pull her in for one more kiss. This time, it lasts.


End file.
